


because ours are the moments i play in the dark

by disastaire



Category: Detroit Evolution - Fandom, Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: DEArtfest, M/M, Post-Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:55:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25134235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disastaire/pseuds/disastaire
Summary: DE Artfest Prompt July 7th - Time Travel/LoopIt's been a few weeks since the events of Detroit Evolution and Gavin's struggling. When time starts looping and keeps him stuck in that struggle, it's going to take a lot more than just anxiety fueled anger to get him where he needs to be.
Relationships: Gavin Reed/RK900 Android(s), Gavin/Nines, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Kudos: 6





	1. so many sleepless nights

**Author's Note:**

> Fic title is from Supercut by Lorde, current chapter title from I Bet My Life by Imagine Dragons. This is my first fanfic since I was in highschool (so 7ish years?). I'll share the playlist I'm making with Gavin's muse by the end of the fic, I promise.

Happy endings don't exist.

Nothing ends because of happiness. A relationship isn't set in stone because of a moment of joy, captured forever in blissful clarity. There's no riding off into a sunset and that's just the end of the story. There are happy moments, but the story continues even when those are few and far between. It continues because stories are narratives about life, the way people try to make it more bearable. And for some masochistic bastards, the only way life is bearable is remembering that there is no such thing as a happy ending.

Gavin wonders if Nines is aware of that.

They're sitting in Gavin's car, waiting in a parking lot for Chris to meet up with them for their newest case. It’s a crime-scene day, which means long hours and a lot of brainpower. Gavin’s already restless, wanting to be on the move, to be focusing on anything but his thoughts. His fingers tap everything in sight. It’s a relentless cacophony of his whirling thoughts, but it’s the only sound in the car. It only falls quiet when Nines takes his hand, stilling his movements. Gavin struggles not to yank it back and just keep tapping. He loves to hold Nines’ hand but this time it just feels restricting, like he’s trapped. He sighs and leans his head against the window. Nines is being comforting, he tells himself. He needs to let him.

A tap on the window starts the day properly. Chris has arrived with coffee, using his knuckles to rap on the glass until Gavin moves and crawls out of the car. The minute they’re out of the car, it’s all business, the displays of affection sidelined for work. Nines and Chris chat about the case as Gavin holds his coffee with a death grip, barely registering it’s hot enough to burn him. The crime scene is a refurbished warehouse that’s been the source of a robbery. Two night shift security guards, an android and a human, got beat to shit and sent to respective hospitals for treatment. Gavin remembers the joke he used to make about android hospitals being glorified tech support clinics and keeps it to himself. It’s all semantics anyway.

They are debriefed by two uniforms and the crew-leader for the forensics and technology squad. The warehouse has been swept for suspects, and they’re just starting to delve into the security footage. Gavin volunteers himself for the task, brushing past Nines and Chris to head into the scene. He can feel Nines’ red LED light as he walks off, but Gavin’s not in the mood to explain himself. 

For a warehouse, the site’s actually pretty modern. It must have been revamped after one of the many economic crashes send the industry here spiraling, and it fits right in with the now gentrified neighborhood that wants business and industry but without the rough and unseemly edges. Gavin missed the part about what industry the business is in, but he’s guessing technology of some sort. Ever since CyberLife put Detroit on the map again, it’s been the hub for technological advancement and industry. 

Gavin slouches into a chair before a set of monitors that display the security footage. It occurs to him once he’s settled with his feet on the desk and the mouse balanced against a knee that he doesn’t know what was stolen, or when the crime was reported. He’s operating with zero information. He scoffs at himself, some fucking detective he is, and starts chugging the still too-hot coffee as he gears the video footage to the beginning of the night shift.

He’s made it five hours into the footage when voices announce he’s got company. 

“A concussion’s a pretty good way to lose track of time, Nines,” Chris is saying as they walk into the room. Gavin doesn’t turn from the screens he’s been staring at for… how long? He doesn’t know. It doesn’t matter. “The doc said it’s pretty severe so we’re not likely to get a solid answer. Best option is checking the footage – and Gavin beat us to it.” Chris is always surprisingly chipper at crime scenes. It’s a ray of optimistic sunshine compared to both Nines and Gavin’s approach. “And here I thought you weren’t paying attention during the briefing.”

“He wasn’t,” Nines responds. Gavin spares a look at his partner, who looks contemplative, yellow whirring on the LED in his temple. “But it’s irrelevant at the moment. Have you found anything of note?”

Gavin’s eye twitches. He knows when he’s been scanned. Nines has been doing it more and more lately, as if the response to Gavin closing himself off is to just read his insides and see if that unravels the mystery of his silence. He nearly snarks at him about it, but it catches in his throat and he just drains the dregs of his coffee. Nines’ LED goes red for a second before filtering back to default blue.

“Nada. Only five hours in from start of shift.” Gavin gestures to the screens, showing the two workers on a patrol across the nine monitors for the site. “The security system didn’t register any break in, and first responders didn’t see any signs of forced entry. And the shift has… 8 more hours of footage.”

“Allow me,” Nines leans over the back of Gavin’s chair, reaching for an interface module attached to the keyboard. His hand retracts its skin and locks into the interface. Gavin shifts in the chair, feeling the parts of his hair that touch Nines’ shirt. An affirming beep echoes in the room as Nines withdraws his hand, skin covering it once more. “Congratulations, Detective Reed. You were only a few moments away from catching the break-in. Watch camera 6.” 

The video shifts on the screen, highlighting the sixth screen. The two workers are in a different area of the building, somewhere near the security room Gavin guesses, when one of the back doors to the loading docks pops open. A figure in a hood comes in, dressed in non-descript black clothing, and starts wandering the halls. Watching the perp walking through, it’s almost like he knows the exact route of the two security guards, as they just keep missing each other. Until one of them, the android, gets alerted before his human partner and starts sprinting off to where the perp is. A scuffle ensues, ending with both security officers on the ground, and the perp running free reign through the warehouse until he hits a room that doesn’t show on the cameras. They don’t reappear on the footage after that.

Gavin raises his eyebrows, looking over to Chris. “Has the office been scoped as part of the crime scene?”

“Nope,” Chris replies. He’s got a grin forming as he continues, “Guess this means we get to do it ourselves.”

\------

It’s nearly midnight when Gavin and Nines return to his apartment. Gavin’s got a bag of Chinese food in one hand and a six pack under his arm as he struggles with the keys to his place. After a few failed attempts, Nines grabs the keys from him and opens the door. Gavin huffs a derisive noise as he walks in, setting things on the table in front of the couch.

“Perhaps this is not the best time to ask this,” Nines is somewhere behind him, and Gavin can feel the tension rise in him as the long-dreaded conversation starts. He doesn’t want to talk about his feelings. He doesn’t want to talk at all. He wants a beer, some Chinese food, and some goddamn sleep so he can bear to wake up tomorrow. “But it feels as though you have been avoiding me lately, Gavin.”

He doesn’t dignify Nines with a response. He opens a beer instead and drops onto the couch, sprawling inelegantly and taking up every bit of space he can. Nines moves over after a moment and sits in the chair next to him, perched rigidly. “Gavin, please talk to me. I only want to help.”

Gavin groans and lowers his beer. “Can we not, Nines? It’s nothing.”

“If it were nothing, you would not have been so distant today.”

“If I say it’s nothing, it’s nothing, all right? Just fucking leave it,” Gavin takes a drink of his beer and stares at the Chinese food boxes, wondering if it’s worth it to break into them tonight or save it for breakfast. That is, unless his domesticated Terminator makes him breakfast again. He sighs again and just keeps drinking, opting for a third option.

The silence is almost uncomfortable, and Gavin’s relishing in it. He can see Nines’ LED whirring yellow and red intermittently as they sit there in that awkward quiet. 

It’s been only a few weeks since the Ada incident. Nines has spent more time in Gavin’s place than in his own, and for a while it was fine. Gavin enjoys his company; he wouldn’t date him if he didn’t. But after the glow of new relationship faded for him, he just got angrier. Nines is always there. Nines is always trying to do things for him. He’s supportive and comforting and present and it’s all the things people want in a relationship, right? Except for apparently him because he mostly just wants Nines to leave him alone. He wonders if scans can pick up thoughts, because he’s been projecting it into the void fiercely every time, he’s kept it bottled up inside. Nines nearly fried because of Ada’s probe. He can’t rock the boat yet. He’s just gotta get over himself.

There’s a creak as Nines stands from the chair, looking down at Gavin as he does. Gavin stares back up at him dully, the couple beers he’s gone through doing enough to dull his endless irritability. His LED is red, about as red as Gavin’s cheeks are going to be in another beer’s time. Nines looks upset. Gavin feels the pang of guilt in his stomach threaten nausea. He takes another drink and wills it to stop that shit. 

“I’ll see you in the morning, Gavin,” he says after a moment. Nines goes off toward the bedroom and closes the door most of the way behind him, leaving it just ajar like it’s an invitation for Gavin to join him. 

Gavin spends the night on the couch.


	2. laying in the bed that i made all alone

The next morning Gavin wakes with a surprisingly clear head. He didn’t expect that, considering he The next morning Gavin wakes with a surprisingly clear head. He didn’t expect that, considering he plowed throw a six-pack on a mostly empty stomach. He shifts, waiting for a pang in his back from sleeping on the couch, only to find he’s in his own bed. Nines is curled up beside him in a position not unlike Asshole’s default snoozing sprawl. It’s almost charming for a moment, because Gavin remembers the first few nights when Nines just sat there, and Gavin threw pillows at him until he used the bed like a normal person.

Then Gavin remembers he fell asleep on the couch. And his grumpy attitude resumes, souring the memories and the image before him. He tosses the covers over Nines and heads into the kitchen to find his leftovers to munch on. He thinks they’re still leftovers even if he didn’t eat any yesterday, but that’s a thought for after coffee and Chinese food.

Gavin’s staring at the coffee table, wondering where his food went. The area is spotless, like he didn’t fall asleep there in a drunken stupor with a half-eaten egg roll and his angst for company. Nines somehow got him into bed and cleaned up without Gavin noticing. He normally slept too lightly for that, but when he’s drunk, all bets are off apparently.

He ambles over to the fridge and pops it open, expecting takeaway containers with fried rice and wontons in them. There’s nothing in the fridge except for some eggs and bread, a couple bananas, and a few old beers that to be honest, he forgot were in there. Gavin groans audibly, beginning to grumble under his breath as he stomps around the kitchen to scrounge for something appetizing. At some point in his muttered tirade, Nines appears next to the counter, head angled slightly to the side as he observes Gavin. 

“I know early morning cases are unpleasant, but this is a new level of begrudging acceptance even for you, Gavin,” Nines says with a soft smile, gently baiting him into the banter that tends to characterize their interactions. Gavin grunts in response, still pawing around in a cabinet for something appealing – right now, it’s caffeine. In a few moments it will probably be a cigarette. His response elicits a chuckle from Nines, who disappears back into the bedroom.

The jar he keeps fresh grounds in is empty. Again. Guess he didn’t remember to get beans yesterday. The low rumble of a groan this time makes him want to bang his head against something cool and metallic that was not Nines. Gavin needs to just resign himself too it. Maybe he can grab a coffee on the way to the station.

Twenty minutes later, he’s driving the car on the way to the station, Nines checking their emails as he does. He’s halfway to the police plaza when Nines stirs, shifting toward him. “We need to head to the old industrial district. Case of a break-in and robbery just came through for a new technological business there. Detective Miller will meet us there, and he says he’ll bring coffee.”

The light in front of Gavin turns green. His blinker still clicks for the right-hand turn toward the plaza. His breath is caught in his chest like a piercing rock, making it had to let it go or take more in. Didn’t they investigate this case yesterday? He could have fucking sworn they were there yesterday, he knows it.

A car honks from behind him as the light switches to yellow. Gavin notices, stuffs the budding panic, and floors it into a left-hand turn that takes them out of the city center and toward the district Nines mentioned. 

\---

Gavin is basically chain-smoking cigarettes as he leans against the hood of his car, staunchly keeping his gaze away from Nines sitting inside, LED whirring yellow. They arrived, Gavin tapped, Nines took his hand and the déjà vu hit him like a train. Gavin fled outside to tap to his heart’s content as he smokes, trying to piece together why things feel weird and wrong. He’s still pissed with Nines, still feeling uncomfortable, and now there’s this sense of things happening over and over that he knows is not normal. Was it the drinking? The chronic sleep deprivation? Gavin has no clue. He finishes his second cigarette and uses it to light a third. 

The car door opens from behind him, closes abruptly, and he can guess Nines is circling around to stand near him. There’s a part of him that feels very guilty, but it keeps manifesting this anger, irritability and need to isolate himself from stimuli that keep causing it. He wants Nines’ comfort but also can’t stand it at the same time. He takes a long drag. Nines makes a noise of disapproval.  
“Gavin, while I know we agreed to separate our personal and professional lives, we’re technically not working yet and I-“

Gavin cuts him off by blowing a cloud of smoke at him. Nines’ face distorts in disgust. Gavin feels almost vindicated by it. Nines doesn’t get another chance to talk as a car scoots into the spot next to them and Chris emerges, holding coffee and a smile like neither are hard to give.

Chris chats with them, almost completely missing the tension, as they head into the warehouse and the briefing from first response uniforms and the forensics squad. Gavin rips the lid off his coffee, blows on it, and begins to chug it down in between puffs of his cigarette. He stops outside to finish off both, almost unfeeling of how hot his drink is, and when both are finished, he walks in to catch the end of the briefing. 

He gets a look from the uniforms at his entrance. He has no awareness of how much time he spent outside, but giving the look Nines gives him, he assumes it’s quite a bit. Gavin sticks his hands into his jacket’s pockets, shrugging it forward as he watches the uniforms finish their report and head out to keep an eye on the lot. Chris turns to the forensics guy and asks about the victims. Gavin tunes out once he hears about concussions and hospitals for the android and the human.

He’s had the kind of dreams that are almost nightmares where he relives the same instance over and over. Had a dream that mimicked the next day too perfectly for his comfort. But today’s taking the fucking cake for how weird it’s becoming. Nines should have been mad at him this morning for yesterday, but it never came up. He knew, he knew that they were here yesterday. Gavin is not superstitious, and he doesn’t believe in coincidences. But he also wants proof of it, something tangible.

He nods to himself and heads into the security office. It takes less than five minutes to get to the footage of the perp’s break-in, the takedown of the security team, and the perp’s flight into the office and out of the camera’s view. His skin’s cold and he’s feeling nauseous now. Chris and Nines are discussing victim interviews and probably heading in here, like yesterday. Gavin doesn’t want to replay it.  
He’s at the office door when he hears Chris and Nines start discussing the security footage. He knows how to move when he wants to. It was how Nines, super senses and all, didn’t pick up on him tailing him leaving the bar with Ada. Gavin closes the door behind him, stifling his ability to hear his partners, and starts examining the room. With no tags, markers or any signs of someone going through here with a forensics kit, he grabs for a spare pair of gloves out of his jacket pocket and tugs them on. The last thing he needs is someone on his ass for improper evidence handling. 

He’s started rifling through the desk, looking through the drawers that are haphazardly tossed open, when the door opens. Nines walks in, taking on a look Gavin knows means he’s analyzing the room for signs. As much as Nines frustrates him, he’s an incredible detective. Gavin wishes he could just scan a room and figure shit out like that. It’d made being a cop a lot easier.

“There are numerous sets of human prints in here, as well as traces of thirium. I suspect we will need to cross reference employee lists with the information I’m receiving from the database as I scan.” Nines paces into the office, continuing to look around. It’s an odd room, even Gavin can see it. No windows, no obvious ventilation to escape out of, and the furniture is sparse but well-placed. He can’t see a thing out of place except open drawers and tossed papers. 

He continues his search until the drawers are all open. Then he checks under the desk. Nines peers down at him. “Is there a reason that you have decided to crawl on the floor under the desk?”

“Sometimes if people are sneaky,” Gavin starts, huffing as he shifts to try and feel around drawer slots, “They have compartments hidden. Check the filing cabinets.”

“I don’t think there will ever come a point in which human behavior ceases to be equal parts fascinating and difficult to comprehend.”

Gavin stills in his search, scowling nastily. It feels like a jab at him and how he’s been acting. He’s earned it, and part of him knows that even though it sours his mood further. They finish the sweep of the room in silence.

\---

Later that evening, on the way back from the precinct, Gavin makes two detours to his normal route home. The first is to grab a bottle of liquor and some more smokes, which he tosses in the trunk. The second is to Nines’ apartment. Gavin shifts into park and waits in front of the building. Nines looks out to it, and back to Gavin, almost uncomfortable. The tension is thick there, and Gavin wonders if Nines will say something. He doesn’t, though. He just climbs out of the car and goes inside. 

Gavin throws it into drive and heads out, running his plan through his head. Once is coincidence, and he doesn’t believe in them but fuck it, he’s been wrong before. But twice? Twice is a pattern. And he plans to not leave anything to ambiguity tonight.

Later, before he attempts to sleep, he leaves the pack of smokes and the full bottle of whiskey on his nightstand. He doesn’t touch them past that, instead just dropping into his bed and trying to will his brain to stop endlessly running.

When he wakes in the morning after a fitful night’s sleep, there’s nothing on his nightstand but his phone. Nines is next to him in bed, curled up not unlike a cat.

Gavin panics.


	3. i'm not worth the trouble, it seems

The third day of the loop, Gavin refuses to leave his bed. He woke up with panic and now he stews in it. Nines spends a good hour trying to talk to him, help him wake up and ready for the day, his LED whirring a constant yellow with darts of red whenever Gavin pushes him away. Eventually he gets a message and heads out, but not before telling Gavin he’ll check in with him around lunch time, bring back Chinese maybe. Gavin watches him walk out of the room and barely registers it.

He’s stuck. Just fucking stuck. He’s angry and irritated and he doesn’t understand it, then there’s this looped day – which he’s seen enough science fiction, and lived enough, to know what’s happening. He’s got absolutely no idea why it’s happening, but it is, and he’s stuck. Again.

He has no concept of the time that passes, but he knows it is before lunch. Whenever that is. Working for the Detroit Police Department could mean lunch at 11 am or 6 pm, it really depends on the day. Nines hasn’t come back. Gavin can’t stay in bed anymore.

There’s a pang in his chest, like his lungs are stuck breathing a rock again. This abrupt shift of routine is disorientating to him. He refused to leave bed and play through the same day a third time but not being at work is driving him up a wall. He swings himself upright and out of bed, tugging on joggers and a sleeveless hoodie shirt. Hood pulled up and hands shoved into pockets, he heads out of the apartment to face the day with all the vitriolic attitude he can muster.

He wanders the streets listlessly, fighting with dark thoughts that erupt every time he sees a similar alley, every time the image reminds him of being homeless and beat to shit on the street waiting to die. His pocket buzzes with the phone he honestly didn’t realize he’d grabbed. There’s a series of texts, some from Tina, one from Chris, and quite a few from Nines. He’s getting another one now.

Nines [12:45pm]: Gavin, I grabbed you Chinese. Tina has offered to assist Chris for the afternoon so I may return early.   
Nines [12:46pm]: I’ll be at the apartment shortly. Estimated 10 minutes, traffic has been congested today.  
Nines [12:56pm]: I’m waiting outside. Can you ring the buzzer to let me in?  
Nines [1:07pm]: Gavin?   
Nines [1:14pm]: Where did you go?  
Nines [1:17pm]: Gavin, I’m concerned for your well-being. Please respond.

Gavin makes at his phone, guilt festering in his gut. He can’t seem to knock it off and stop lashing out, but the texts bother him at the same time. How is that possible? Nines is looking out for him. Gavin doesn’t need it, but he appreciates it. Right?

The sharp honk of a horn jolts him to reality, stopping him from walking into moving traffic. He sticks his phone back in his pocket and waits, then keeps wandering through the city, stuck in his thoughts.  
Some time later, he’s in front of a liquor store. He looks up, debating if an escape like that is a solid plan to deal with repeating hell-scape days. He’s checking his pockets for his wallet when his phone chirps to alert someone’s calling him. With a glance at the caller ID, Gavin sighs and pulls it out to answer.

“Gavin? About time you answered. If I had to deal with another frantic text from Nines, I would come after you with lights on,” Tina’s voice vibrates the phone against his cheek. 

Gavin chuckles reflexively. “And risk that shiny promotion you’ve got lined up for detective? I doubt it.”

Tina curses, making Gavin chuckle again. It’s such an odd moment, considering his dissociative wandering of Detroit for most of the day, but the sense of normalcy it gives him is grounding.   
“Yeah, yeah, I’m aware I’m an asshole. So what’s up?” he asks.

“I got a few texts from Nines. Apparently, you’ve not only called in sick for the first time since I’ve known you, but you also took off and aren’t responding to anyone. Or you weren’t. Let me tell you, this is not how I imagined an afternoon of suspect and victim interviews to go.”

Gavin winces. He shifts the phone to his shoulder and shoves his hands in his pockets. The liquor isn’t tempting anymore. Something about Tina’s scolding, even light-heartedly casual, makes his guilt that much stronger. “Needed some air. It happens.”

Tina makes a noise. He’s not sure if it’s a scoff or a weird laugh. “I guess. Listen, I didn’t call to lecture. Just do me a favor and text Nines that you’re all right. He’s worried about you.”

Gavin responds with his silence. Tina continues after a minute, “And it’s your turn for drinks this Friday. Don’t forget. I’ve got the best story about what Hank just did to the new recruits.”

And just like that, the moment of tension eases. He laughs again. “Yeah, okay. Catch ya later, T.”

She ends the call and the screen flashes the time. It’s nearly four o’clock. Gavin winces. He’s dissociated before, sure, but it’s not usually so long. No wonder Nines is freaking out a bit. He shoves his phone in his pocket and takes off at a light jog in the direction of his apartment.

\---

At a steady jog, it takes Gavin a half hour to get home. Dissociative wandering really lends itself to distance, he thinks darkly. It only takes a couple moments to key himself in and hit the stairs, opting to keep his sweaty exorcism of emotions going. His heart’s racing, he’s sweating, and it’s making him feel normal. He feels, oddly enough, clean. Talking with Tina was grounding, but this is solidifying, making him wonder why he’s not felt like this in a few weeks. He hasn’t really run in a few weeks. It’s been mostly work, friends, Nines… 

He’s cut off from dwelling on that when he reaches his apartment door. Gavin almost knocks. Why does he feel like he has to knock? He rolls his eyes at himself and lets himself in.

The place is immaculately clean.

It might as well glitter. Gavin does the basics of cleanliness sometimes, but he’s not big into it and he mostly forgets things need to get done until whoops, Asshole has a huge dust bunny in their mouth. The sight is jarring, the dustless spaces and washed places. And to top it off, Asshole comes darting out from his bedroom with a mrowl of indignance and climbs their way up into Gavin’s sweaty arms.  
Asshole hates initiating affection. Gavin scritches behind their ears. Asshole mrowls indignantly again. He looks confused, then brings his cat up to eye level, getting a good look at the scruffy fluffball. 

Is… is Asshole freshly bathed?

His attempts to give a sniff are met with two things: the prompt freak out of Asshole who removes themselves from Gavin’s arms with a scratch and a hiss, and the smell of the pet shampoo Gavin bought but has opted not to use yet, as every attempt at bathing has left him with a great need for band aids. 

Asshole flees into the bedroom from whence they came. Gavin follows, starting to strip off the sweaty clothing he’s wearing. There’s a cough from behind him. Gavin tugs his shirt back down and turns to face Nines, who’s standing with his hands knit in front of him. Nines’ sleeves are rolled up, which is unusual, and his LED whirrs a constant yellow.

Gavin breaks the silence. “How the hell did you get Asshole into the bath?”

“I didn’t. I bathed them in the sink after luring them in with food. And I retracted my skin so as to preserve the covering, as I know they are prone to scratching after your last attempt.” Nines folds his hands again, still appearing uncomfortable. “The experience left me with a sound understanding of why pet groomers are employing more androids to help than humans of late. We have a sturdy grip without potential harm coming to the animal.”

Gavin grunts by way of response. His eyes find any other space around Nines to focus on rather than Nines himself. The guilt he ran off is starting to creep back, and on top of that he can smell the sweat on himself. “Well, thanks, I guess.”

“It was not a problem. It helped with…” Nines cuts himself off, LED pulsing a flash of red. Gavin can see it from his periphery even when he’s staring at the art he’s got on his wall. Damn it. “Well, it helped.”

Something about the way Nines said that made all his anger come rushing back. 

“Glad it did. What a nice surprise,” he says venomously. “Guess I really did land the perfect android. Cop by day, maid by night.”

Nines glares at him. “I’m just trying to help. There’s no need to be nasty.”

He is being nasty. Gavin knows this. Yet he doubles down on it, because the irritation, the guilt, the last few weeks, the last couple days, it’s all left him with raw and jagged edges. Even more so than usual. Nines doesn’t seem to get it, he never gets it, he just keeps being kind and gentle and there and Gavin can’t stand it anymore.

“You’re not helping, Nines! Cleaning my apartment, hovering over me, that isn’t helping. Getting Tina to call me when she’s at work because you can’t keep it together isn’t helping!”

Nines’ posture abruptly shifts, and he’s holding up a hand to pacify him, a gentle smile on his face. Gavin’s thrown back to a night not too long ago when he did the same thing outside the bar. Nines called it a mood; said they could talk about it. He never asked Gavin if he wanted to talk about it. He just decided and didn’t listen to Gavin when he said no. 

“I was just concerned. Your behavior of late has been increasingly self-isolating and erratic.”

Gavin makes a noise of disgust. Right back to that, then. Nines is trying to fix him. Gavin doesn’t need to be fixed; he needs to be left alone. He brushes past Nines and pops open the balcony door, leaving it open behind him. With a rustle of fabric and paper and the click of a lighter, he’s dragging in a deep, carcinogenic breath of relief from the restless energy building up inside him. Gavin taps on the balcony railing with his free hand.

The balcony door closes behind him. Gavin only must glance to the side to see Nines is standing there. The moment of respite is gone.

“What do I have to do to get you to leave me alone, Nines?” he demands. “Seriously, there has to be an off switch somewhere!”

“Gavin, I-“

“Shut up, for fuck’s sake.” Gavin’s voice is hard. He’s watching himself from five feet away, feeling everything with the most detached, basic connection possible. There’s no part of him that’s thinking what he’s saying through; it’s visceral and harsh, and he can only watch its poison take effect. “Just shut up and leave me the fuck alone. Get out!”

The looks on Nines’ face kills him. Gavin can’t breathe. He’s shaking and just watching his best friend, his partner, the android he fell in love with, be hurt because of him. And finally, finally, Nines seems to hear him. He leaves without another word.

Gavin finishes his cigarette and tosses the butt into the bucket by the railing. 

\---

The next morning, Nines is beside him in bed again.


End file.
